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“You look delicious this evening,” he purred in her ear, then kissed her neck.
“You said that earlier,” she whispered back. Her sun tanned skin flushed at his compliment.
He twirled her around. Her amethyst-colored sheer silk gown ethereally fluttered, as though she was floating right in front of him. Her laugh sang like a full octave, warming him as he brought her back into his arms and they continued to dance. Her bright silver elf eyes and softly-waved long white blonde hair matched her radiant smile. She was truly a beauty. He could hardly take his eyes off of her. She touched his face, a gesture she had done for years. He could almost feel her emotions as if they were his own. She loved him.
The gala was as boring as usual, thrown to honor some noble he could care less about, but he had to attend if he wanted to keep up appearances and keep his fingers on the pulse of the happenings in the city. He had taken care of some business and even tapped a few contacts that could be beneficial to his new ventures, so it was not a complete waste of time. They had only lingered because she wanted to have one dance with him before they left. He didn’t mind, they would be home soon enough, he would be out of this suit and her dress would be on the floor. And he would be deep between her legs. He felt his trousers get a little tighter.
“I don’t think I can wait until we get home. Let’s go find a quiet place here,” he whispered, pressing himself closer to her, so there was misunderstanding his intent. “I want to hear you call out my name.”
“Dirty old man,” she laughed and moved her hips in a way that made him grumble with delight.
He loved when she teased him, it only made him want her more. He glanced around the dance floor, listening to the idle chatter. Most people were talking to their dates or wishing they were talking to someone else’s date. He didn’t. The only person he wanted was already in his arms. He felt the eyes of a Drow woman staring at them. He could tell the Drow woman was fantasizing about his lover. You and everyone else here, but you can’t have her. She is mine, he thought. He looked directly at the Drow woman, caught her eye, then leaned down and kissed his lover, softly opening his mouth, gliding his tongue on hers. He could practically feel the Drow woman’s jealousy. It aroused him. The Drow woman turned away. He closed his eyes, deepening the kiss. She returned it with the same hunger and affection.
“Someone is feeling a little possessive this evening,” she said.
“I can’t help that,” he said, licking his lips. “You are glorious.”
“Okay, you win, let’s get out of here, babe.”
“Good, I thought you would never ask,” he purred, pulling her in for another kiss.
**** BANG **** BANG **** BANG****
“CAPTAIN!” A voice called out.
Balduran jolted awake, banging his head on the low bulkhead over his bed.
“Ouch!” He cried out. “WHAT?!”
“Captain, we are here,” one of his crew members said through his stateroom’s door.
“Right. Yeah, umm. Fuck. Just a minute,” he said.
Balduran fell back on his pillow, rubbing the top of his head. He closed his eyes, thinking about the beautiful elf in the ethereal gown. She felt so real. He touched his lips, remembering her kiss. The taste of her skin was still on his tongue. Her affection stirred him, even her fragrance. What was that? Black plum, velvety woods, with a hint of vanilla. He reached under his sheets, adjusting himself, shocked that a dream would have that much of an effect on him. He took a couple of breaths to calm himself down. What a dream, I wish I could’ve finished it, he thought with a smile. The sounds of his crew hustling around the deck brought him out of his reverie and he opened his eyes, sighing.
Balduran’s stateroom on his ship was small and even though it was the Captain’s quarters, he sometimes felt he barely had enough room to turn around. That was fine though, he never wanted his crew to think he was living better than them as they journeyed. Plus, the less room he had, the more room they had for the treasure hold.
After a quick sponge bath, privy break, and general hygiene, he dressed in his usual black trousers and loose tunic, then pulled his long white blonde hair into a topknot. He gave himself a wink in his small mirror, before putting on a knit stocking cap and his heavy wool coat and headed up to the deck.
Balduran found his crew still busy adjusting the anchors, as he headed up to the helm to join his first mate. Because his ship was so large, they usually anchored off the coast of the smaller villages they stopped at for supplies. Past experience had taught him they often gained rodent stowaways if they docked at these seedier marinas. It was better anyway, they only planned on staying the night to collect supplies. The northern weather was taking its toll and they had hit several ice storms just getting this far. His crew deserved a night ashore before making the long run back south. He pulled the collar up on his coat against a sharp breeze that hit him, shivering him to core. One night here, then back to warmer weather and calmer seas, he thought.
“Morning Captain,” his first mate Kellan said, frowning. He took off his own black hood and handed it to Balduran. “Here, I would put this on, it will cover your ears. I hear these northerns can be pretty prejudiced toward non-humans."
Balduran thanked his first mate and traded his stocking cap for Kellan’s black hood, making sure his long elf ears were covered.
“What else have you heard?” Balduran asked, looking toward the sleepy village.
“We are south of Illusk now, but the culture is similar, tense and suspicious. But lots of trade runs through this sleepy town. Bet we can get everything we need here before heading south,” he suggested. “Probably for the best, those clouds out there on the horizon are looking pretty fierce.”
“Agreed,” Balduran said, glancing at the clouds. “Well, let’s get our lists together and sell some of this cargo. Afterwards we can see what this little village has to offer.”
The snow began to fall as Balduran and several members of his crew rowed the tenders to the village docks. He enjoyed the happy banter of his crew as they discussed the desire for frosty pints, a warm meal, and maybe finding a new friend for the evening. He understood, it had been a while since he felt the warmth of another’s arms. His mind drifted to the woman he dreamt about. He could not get her out of his mind. He licked his lips, remembering her kiss.
The village was like Kellan described, small and quaint. Most of the shops were built on the main street, with a large tavern nested right off the docks. Balduran grinned seeing the tavern’s name, ‘Siren’s Song.’ A fitting name for weary sailors, he thought. He was about to make a remark to Kellan about it, when he noticed an elf woman with long, white-blonde hair exit the tavern. She stood outside the door for a moment as she donned a knit stocking cap and placed her longbow to its sheath. She barely glanced over at all of them, before turning and making her way down the snowy main street. Balduran froze. She looked like the woman in his dream. He shook his head. He glanced back down the street, but she had disappeared. What the hell? Maybe I have been at sea too long, I’m seeing things, he chuckled to himself.
As most of the crew headed into the tavern, Balduran, his first mate, and few others walked down the street to the general store. He was shocked how well stocked it was for a small village. They greeted the man behind the counter, who only grunted a response, barely looking up from his book. Splitting their list, they began grabbing gear and setting it on the front counter. The man behind the counter only nodded as they stacked items to purchase. Balduran assumed the man was probably used to being an outpost to ships that anchored off their village, when he heard a woman’s voice, “Karl, where did you say Piotr stacked them?”
Balduran whipped his head around. He knew that voice, it was the same as in his dream. He was sure of it.
“He said he stacked them on the bottom shelf, next to the malt,” the shopkeeper called back.
“Found them,” her voice replied. He heard the sounds of a wooden box slide from a shelf. “Great, thanks Karl!”
Balduran peered down the back hallway, but only caught a glimpse of her long, white-blonde hair as the backdoor closed behind her. He stood there frozen. She is real, he thought.
Kellan joined him at the counter and read off the list of the supplies they still needed to purchase to the shopkeeper, but Balduran was hardly listening. He kept his eyes on the back door. He remembered his dream and how he could feel her emotions. Finally Kellan asked him what was wrong. Balduran snapped back to reality.
“That’s great, umm, here,” Balduran said, reaching into his coat and handing Kellan his pouch of gold, before heading for the backdoor.
“Wait, Captain! Where are you going?” Kellan called out to him.
“You have it covered,” he called out and quickly exited the store.
Snow was falling heavily now, covering the footsteps that Balduran was following. Then they seemed to disappear entirely. He looked down an alleyway and thought he caught her fragrance in the air. But by the time he walked to the end of the alley, he didn’t see her. Maybe she’d turned down a different way, or he thought dumbly, I could make this easy on myself and ask the general store manager since he knew her.
“Well, well, well, what the hell is this? A bloody elf,” a voice said behind him.
Balduran closed his eyes, practically kicking himself that he had not been more careful with his hood. He took a deep breath. Time to turn on the charm, he thought and turned around with a grin. But what he saw made his face fall. Three large men stood in front of him, and one of them was bouncing a club on his palm.
“Fellas, well met,” Balduran said, with a smile.
“And a southerner too,” the thug with the club said and spat on the snow.
“We don’t like no stinking southern folk, especially elf-folk, up here,” the largest thug added.
“Look, let’s try this again, my name is…,” he said, before getting interrupted.
“We don’t care what yah’ name is. Yah’ could be the Emperor of the fuckin’ sword coast, and we still beat yah’ bloody,” the last thug said. “We saw yah’ come in, must have some coin, big ship like that.”
“Oddly enough, I am fresh out of gold,” Balduran said. “But, how about we make a deal?”
“Southerners and their deals,” the thug with the club said. Then as fast as the words left his mouth, he stepped toward Balduran, swinging his club.
Balduran, who had been in numerous fights in his day, easily dodged the attack, but forgot to check his surroundings and got his face punched by the first thug. The other one got behind him and grabbed his arms, holding them behind his back. Balduran struggled against the man’s grip, throwing his head back, trying to knock the thug in the head. He missed, making the man grip his arms even tighter.
“Now, tell me what’s on yah’ ship,” the thug with the club said.
“JORMAN!” A woman’s voice shouted behind him. Balduran watched the thug with the club look up at the sound of the voice, then roll his eyes and lower his club.
“This ain’t got nothing to do with yah’, Ellie,” he sighed.
“The fuck it doesn’t,” the woman’s voice was closer. Balduran, still restrained, tried to look over his shoulder, but all he saw was a long bow trained at the thug with the club. “Let the elf go, or I’ll tell Yrik! And you know what will happen. Or should we ask Niklas here?”
Balduran felt the thug release his grip and step away from him. He turned toward his rescuer and could not believe it, it was her. The same bright silver eyes, the same sun-tanned, freckled skin. She was even more beautiful in person. He tried not to smile, but could not help it. She was not a figment of his imagination.
“Fine,” Jorman said. “Yah’ can have the skinny elf. Shit. Why do yah’ take this so personal?”
“I don’t need a reason, Jorman. But if I catch you pulling this shit again, I’m just gonna shoot first, and you know I never miss,” the woman said and looked at the large thug. “Right Niklas?”
Balduran glanced over to the man she referred to as Niklas and watched the color drain from his face.
“We are sorry,” Niklas mumbled.
“Alright then, now you guys, get gone!” She grumbled, pulling the bowstring of her longbow further back.
Balduran swallowed and watched the thugs shuffle out of the alley. He turned toward her. She lowered her bow, but he noticed she still kept it nocked.
“Thank you for saving me,” he said and gave her a polite grin, half expecting her to disappear or him to wake up.
“I’m not gonna have any trouble from you, am I?” She asked him forcefully in Elvish. Balduran shook his head, which seemed to satisfy her and he watched her move her bow to the sheath behind her back. She looked him over and raised her eyebrow. “Skinny fucker aren’t you? Don’t you guys eat in the south?”
The beauty of a goddess and the mouth of a sailor, truly a woman after my own heart, he thought. “You are pretty slender yourself,” he chuckled.
“Because there’s hardly any food up here. The ground is frozen, or haven’t you noticed the snow ,” she said, rolling her eyes. She picked up one of the wine crates and pushed it against his chest. “You have free arms now. Here, carry one of these.”
"Sure," he said, grabbing the crate.
"Come on, I assume you were headed to the tavern,” she said, picking up the other wine crate and shuffling through the snow out of the alley. He caught a hint of her fragrance again. If this is a dream, please don’t let me wake up, he prayed and jogged to catch up with her.
Balduran continued to follow her down the main street, but she stayed quiet, only nodding toward villagers they passed. For the first time in his life he could not come up with something witty to say. He kept stealing glances at her and grinning. She’s real, I can’t believe she is real, he kept saying to himself.
When they arrived at the tavern, she brought him through to the back entrance. The staff barely nodded in his direction, but all greeted her brightly, making jokes and asking if her people were finally coming to collect her. Balduran grinned, not really knowing what was going on. He was so used to being fawned and adored on the streets back home that it was odd to be anonymous here. He realized he did not mind it. He loved the protection that she cast.
“Well, thank you for your help,” she said, setting her crate down, then taking the one from his hands and stacking it on top of the other. “You are safe here and on the docks. I wouldn’t stray further than that, you got it?”
“That was a brave thing you did back there, standing up for a stranger. Can I at least buy you a drink?” Balduran asked, feeling stupid as the words came out of his mouth. She nearly saved my life and I offered to buy her a drink, talk about being out of practice, he thought.
“Look babe, you don’t owe me anything. I just don’t like bullies,” she said.
Balduran’s laugh was genuine. He glanced out toward the tavern and saw his crew all drinking and laughing, but he wanted to keep talking to her. He turned back to her and watched her mouth move into a crooked frown. “That bruise is beginning to flower. Come with me.”
Balduran had nearly forgotten he got punched earlier. He followed her to what must have been the employee break room off the tavern’s kitchen. She pointed to a chair and opened a cabinet door, pulling out a purple glass jar and a clean cloth. She opened the jar and he was hit with a strong floral and vanilla fragrance. She fingered out some sort of white ointment and gently rubbed it on his cheek. He closed his eyes, remembering how she touched his face in his dream.
“Here, hold the cloth to your cheek. It won’t take long,” she said, placing the cloth on his cheek.
“What is this stuff?” He asked, holding the cloth. He winced as the ointment began to work its magic, stinging his cheek. The soft fragrance helped.
“Well, it’s a little controversial,” she said, turning around and washing her hands. “The majority of the base is crushed up moonflowers and avens, which is made into a paste and then mixed with mind flayer mucus.”
“Excuse me?!” Balduran asked, pulling the cloth away from his face.
“No, no, keep it covered. Give it another minute or so. When it stops stinging, it’s done,” she explained. Balduran apprehensively returned the cloth to his face. “We buy it from the Drow. It’s meant to close deep wounds, but it heals bruises very quickly. We get a lot of bar fights here.”
True to her word, the ointment quickly stopped stinging and he did not feel the bruise. She asked him to move the cloth and she delicately held his chin, checking for more bruising. Then she helped him wipe off the treatment from his face. Her gentle touch made him blush, something he never did.
“Thank you again,” Balduran quietly said.
Her face softened and she gave him a half-smile, then sighed, “you like brown ale?”
He sat up straighter, “I love it!”
Balduran followed her up on the second floor of the tavern. It was much quieter up there. Just a few locals playing lanceboard and a couple of other people enjoying a drink with a book. She chose a secluded booth tucked by the fireplace.
As Balduran sat down, he looked out the window at his ship calmly anchored off the coast. He could see a few lanterns lit and was pleased to see everything battened down for the snow. He sighed at the dark, ominous clouds looming on the horizon.
“Looks like an incoming electrical ice storm,” she said, as she sat down and handed him a frothy dark pint. “You might want to consider suggesting to your Captain to stay anchored here, at least until the storm passes. You don’t want to get caught in that. Ships bigger than yours get lost all the time.”
“Yeah,” he mumbled, sipping the malty ale. “We will be okay. We’ve all been out on those waters for a while. There is nothing out there we can’t handle.”
“I’m sure,” she mumbled, sipping her from her own pint. “But what’s the old saying, red sky at night, sailors' delight.”
“Red sky in the morning, sailors take warning,” he replied, finishing the old sailor superstition. He raised his eyebrow at her. “Are you worried about me?”
She gave me a sad smile, then spoke in Elvish, “You are the first elf I have seen in a long time. I was quite young when my family’s ship was caught in a similar storm not far from here. I was one of the only people who did not drown.”
Balduran gave her a sad grin, realizing that saving him from those thugs was more personal than she let on. She was a survivor and probably raised herself away from their kind. He looked into her eyes and saw loneliness. He did not know what to say, so he patted her hand. She smiled at him.
They sat in silence as they drank their ale. The silence was not awkward though, it was the type of companionable silence you only achieve by being truly comfortable with someone. His mind wandered, imagining them sharing a house, morning tea on a back veranda, nights tangled in front of warm fire. Even introducing her to his mother. He could even hear his mother’s voice in his head, it’s about time Balduran, now make me some grandkids. He grinned at her and he caught her blushing.
“How does your face feel?” She finally asked.
“Actually, better,” he said, touching his cheek. “I don’t even feel the bruise at all.”
“Good,” she said, her silver eyes sparkling. “Well, I better go.”
“Wait! Can I walk you home?” He asked. “I heard a skinny elf got jumped by three thugs this evening.”
She gave him a genuine laugh that sang like a full octave, but shook her head. She stood up. He watched her put on her wool coat and stocking cap. Then she leaned down and kissed him on the cheek and whispered, “be careful out there, okay?”
Balduran wanted to grab her hand, pull her into his arms, kiss her, and never let her go. But all he did was watch her leave. She stopped at the stairs and held her hand up and nodded at him. He held his hand up too, saying goodbye. She turned and headed down the stairs.
‘What the fuck am I doing, go after her you moron,’ he thought. Balduran got up and rushed down the stairs, but she was already gone. Damnit .
He heard his crew call to him and saw them all drinking at a huge table at the center of the tavern. He clasped hands with everyone and apologized to Kellan for abandoning him at the general store. He ordered another pint and barely followed the conversation as she kept drifting into his thoughts.
The rest of the evening went as expected, singing shanties, dancing on tables, and a hefty tavern bill. Balduran knew his crew needed a night off. As the crew, drunk and happy, stumbled to the inn. Balduran and a few others decided to head back to the ship.
“What happened with that beautiful elf we all saw you with? Figured you would be with her tonight,” Kellen asked as they stepped aboard one of the tenders.
“Yeah, well, me too. I guess I’m losing my charm,” Balduran chuckled, pushing them off from the dock. “You know, I didn’t even tell her my name.”
“What was her name?’ Kellan asked.
Balduran chuckled and shook his head, “can you believe it, I forgot to ask her.”
“I don’t blame you, I think I would have gotten tongue-tied myself,” Kellan said. “She was a beauty.”
“Yeah, she was,” Balduran said, touching his face.
“You are both elves. Your race lives ten of our lifetimes, maybe you will meet her again,” his first mate offered.
Balduran nodded, looking back over at the village. She was there and somewhere in her heart, or maybe even his soul, he knew Kellen was right, he would see her again. If not, at least his dreams.